Opus 15
by Romipen
Summary: The world works to eradicate bio-terrorism. Not everything ended in Africa. Concerning Sherry Birkin, the girl who disappeared. // Post RE5.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** Resident Evil © Capcom

**PLOT:** Post Resident Evil 5 - The world works to eradicate bio-terrorism. Not everything ended in Africa. Concerning Sherry Birkin, the girl who disappeared.

* * *

When she had been very young, life had been obliviously innocent. Mother and father were always so distant, always so busy with work, and she had been ignored. She was bored, and unhappy, and frustrated; she was very young, and she didn't understand.

When time had been made for her, those were days of endless sun glaring blinding in her eyes, of picnics spent under impossibly tall trees, of winters spent with games and steaming mugs indoors, of mom and dad looking less tired, less worn out, for one day.

When she had been young, but a little older, life had become simply understood; she was second best. It had come to her childish comprehension slowly over the growing years and she had childishly accepted it as the way of things. She wasn't happy over it, but it had become firmly understood at some point she couldn't exactly remember so long ago. It never troubled her as it should have, but that was one of the many miracles of being a child. Work came first. Before anybody or anything, work always came first. That was the unspoken understanding of how it all functioned, and it was a simple concept for a young child to gather.

However, she never felt that it was _right._

Though, regardless of right or wrong, she loved her parents unconditionally, as children are wont to do. Her father, all hollow eyes and sick determination; her mother, a fierce will masked by quiet contemplation. She loved them both and felt that they loved her as well, if in their distant and forgetful ways, and that was good enough for her. Good enough for a child born into a secret and strange world.

So it came as a catastrophe to her young life when the secrets of her parents all-consuming lifestyle made itself known to her. They came in the form of her mutated father hunting her throughout the wasted remains of the city she grew up in. Of rotten flesh hunting in the festering grounds, spilling out of the contamination like a puss. She had been pulled from that reeking perdition by friends she would never forget, and who, for the longest time in her young life, she had convinced herself wouldn't forget her. But it became apparent that at some point they _had_ forgotten about her somewhere along the way, and the law of second-best became cemented into her psyche.

With that firm understanding it had been easy to adjust to the new lifestyle she had adopted after being spirited away from the government's grasp. She had been traded absent parents for an absent imitation of a last living relative, her father's constant associate. The new change hardly mattered to her as profoundly as it should have, and she would later come to attribute it to shock.

In this way she had grown out of childhood into young adulthood and where she found herself now; rather direction-less in life and once again, for the second time in her history, completely alone.

She had come to understand recently that she had lost her last tie to anything remotely close to a living relative. She had received the notice through an old business associate she had met through the same company her own family had worked for. It was a rather _small_, secret world at times. The news came as a light shock, and though she felt the smallest irritation at being one of the last people to be notified, it was not surprising. Work had always been first, and she had always been a priority left for the back burner. Still, the concept of being alone in the world was unsettling, and thus she had naturally found herself flying back to the states and the only place she could trace back to her roots. The only place she could think to go.

Sherry Birkin returned to Colorado.

* * *

_Schumann - Opus 15 "Kinderszenen"._


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:** Resident Evil © Capcom

**PLOT:** Post Resident Evil 5 - The world works to eradicate bio-terrorism. Not everything ended in Africa. Concerning Sherry Birkin, the girl who disappeared.

* * *

When her classmates heard she was leaving, it was "Why, Shelly?"

She had explained, "A relative recently died."

This was easy. It was simply understood and allowed her the chance to fly from Europe to the States. To Colorado, she made her way, just east of the Arklay Mountains. It was a place of haunting memories, but she had long since overcome any specific diversion to the local. If anything at all, Sherry felt a strange sense of homecoming, as if returning to some old, remembered home of childhood. In a sense, it was exactly that.

There was a bank not far from the estate. In the bank there was a safe deposit box she was privy to access. Amongst various articles left for utilization were a set of keys. The keys and one bank card she took with her and placed the rest back into their silent vault. Then driving her rental, she made the long and winding ascent to where the private estate lay sequestered within the mountain range.

It was a quiet drive. Sherry was half aware of the engine's hum and half engulfed with inner reflection. It was like entering into a dream. She was on auto-pilot as she slowly brought the car past the security gate and up the twisting driveway. None of it had seemed real. Not until the metallic glide made it all too tangible, as she slid her keys into the front door.

The entrance hall was the emptiest room of the modest mansion. Dust was gathered over the sparse furniture and in dark corners old cobwebs hung in despair. She made her way inside, musing over the abandonment. No one had walked these floors for years. Upstairs, making her way down the landing, she paused outside a door. She swung it open and investigated the small, private study. It was dark and smelled of disuse. The monitors stared empty at her, and the books on the shelves were soft with dust. On the desk she fingered over files left in order. The place may have been abandoned, but it appeared it had not been forgotten.

Sherry smiled to herself. "We're of the same kind."

She grew quiet as her eyes fell on a file left resting on the desk. Unlike so many of the red and white logos she had been born accustomed to, this one was very different and something she easily recognized. The file looked fresher than the books on the shelves, and a simple Tricell logo gazed fixedly back at her. She picked it up and stared down at it, leaving the study and shutting it in darkness once more.

She hurried down the hall and came before a door she swung open with the ease of habit. Inside she froze, momentarily forgetting the folder in her arms. It was like stepping through time. Her bed lay neat and empty against the back wall, shadowed by the drawn curtains on either side. Her desk was as she had left it all that time ago, and her dresser was still lined atop with old treasure boxes. Glancing briefly towards the bathroom door, she headed opposite to the fireplace, pulling back another heavy drape a few feet from it. Light seeped into the room from the narrow balcony beyond, and she unlocked the door and stepped outside.

The cool wind was a fresh breath and a stark contrast from the heavy stillness inside. She turned her gaze to the right and across the expanse to a larger balcony further down. Memories, vivid, played behind her eyes.

***

"_Practice makes perfect. Trite but true, even here."_

"_But I don't like it!" She argued against him. "I don't want to do this."_

_He had turned from her to gaze over the forested expanse below, his patience with the girl waning already. "You'd think, being different as you are, you'd take more interest in it."_

"_I'm not my mom and dad!"_

_He had regarded her with a piercing look that could be felt behind the glasses. "No. You certainly aren't."_

_And for some reason, she had felt as some great shortcoming._

***

She clenched the file and stared down at it. Tricell Pharmaceutical Company.

"What were you trying to do?" she breathed into the wind. She turned from the view and stepped back into the room.

* * *

_Schumann - Opus 15 "Kinderszenen"._


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER:** Resident Evil © Capcom

**PLOT:** Post Resident Evil 5 - The world works to eradicate bio-terrorism. Not everything ended in Africa. Concerning Sherry Birkin, the girl who disappeared.

* * *

_Sherry was sprawled over her bed, half asleep from exhaustion. She had been crying very hard. She had found that some days were easier to cope with than others, but since her relocation she had fallen into a solid wave of despair. How would Claire ever find her now? Why had Claire not come for her sooner?_

_Between a sob and another sniffle, she suddenly took notice of the shadow on the wall and pushed herself up to look to the bedroom door. He was leaning there, framed by the muted light of the hall, arms laced together gracefully._

"_Time to get up. We have work to do."_

_She rubbed at her swollen eyes. "I want to go home."_

_He stared back calmly through the dark glasses. "There is no home. Everything was destroyed."_

_She started to cry again. "Claire is going to come back for me..."_

_There was a sneer. "Oh, yes. Claire." he mused over the thought. "If she had intended to come back for you, wouldn't she have done so already?"_

"_S-she won't find me here-"_

"_Enough, Sherry." he snapped, impatiently. "Don't be a fool. No one is coming for you. No one will. None of them had remembered to look for some lost, little orphan."_

_She was so hurt. There were no words. Maybe he had seen it smacked on her face._

"_Listen to me," he began again, "your father and mother would have preferred you be here. Despite their absences, they still considered you a great deal. I'm the only one who came to liberate you from that miserable system and you should come to accept this. As long as you do as I say, there is no reason you shouldn't be comfortable."_

_She watched him for a long moment. This man she had known only on a relatively shallow level. Now she was under his singular care, and the thought frightened her almost as much as her abandonment had._

"_Now get yourself ready," he instructed. "we have tests to run."_

_Tests. Many tests. Always new tests to be done in his labs. She had found, however, that there was something comforting about the research. Not as much the participation she had no choice but concede to, but the work it brought about. She was at ease around people consumed by work. This she understood. She would come to understand a great many more things._

_She was taller and at ease as she leaned against the shiny, white counter._

"_So you're sending me away?"_

_He didn't bother to glance at her as he squinted down through the microscope._

"_It's for the best. You can't stay here."_

_She tapped at a vial absently. "You've grown tired of me being here."_

"_Sherry, don't be melodramatic." _

"_Where will I go?"_

"_To school." he replied easily. "Then to a university."_

_Her brows rose. "That's...a long going away."_

_He regarded her briefly, eyes red and so very inhuman. She was accustomed to the sight._

"_There's work I have to see about now, and you're ready to start looking after yourself."_

_She leaned over the counter, resting her head in her arms. "Where are you going?"_

_He turned smoothly to his notes, a ghost of a smile lingering. "Far."_

_She huffed and poked at his glasses on the counter. "Will I see you?"_

_He paused for half a beat. "No. I'm afraid not."_

***

Sherry woke quickly. She yawned, scrubbed at her eyes, and glared blearily down at the documents spread below her across the desk. This place was beginning to plague her thoughts.

On the desk, the Tricell logo glared up at her.

Tricell. She had become increasingly familiar with the company ever since the BSAA released publicly the terrible epidemic in Kijuju, Africa. A terrible outbreak that devastated the region and threatened to spread further. Rumors of a doomsday attempt that had narrowly been avoided. It was the topic of current events, and those concerned stayed up to date with the BSAA's efforts to battle the BOW threat.

To keep the company from imminent ruin, Tricell Pharmaceutical had adamantly claimed ignorance of the entire situation. The company had been quoted as stating the African Branch had been operating in absolute secrecy and independence. They were oblivious to the disaster in Kijuju. Oblivious and horrified.

Sherry (as well as many) hadn't been fully swayed, but the European company had been consistently putting out great fiscal support towards the BSAA's efforts as well as the victims in the contaminated regions of Africa. Tricell was doing everything it possibly could to maintain its innocence. The Pharmaceutical company had even agreed to work cooperatively alongside TerraSave.

Now she knew for a fact that he had a hand to play in it all. She wasn't surprised, but she was comforted in being absolutely certain. There was a strange sensation in her gut. He had been put down in an attempt to re-create a similar disaster to the one that had left her an orphan, only on a far grander scale. What should she feel in retrospect? The BSAA acclaimed it as a tremendous victory against a true monstrosity. She thought hard on the man who had brought her cereal for breakfast - with hands dripping in the blood of the innocent. A true monstrosity.

"_Will I see you?"_

"_No. I'm afraid not."_

She riffled through the sparse documents again before slipping them back into the file. There wasn't much that covered anything particular in detail. Just notes and development plans for the facility in Kijuju. Nothing she hadn't already heard about.

Sherry decided then, perhaps she had decided last night, that she would return to her university as soon as she had everything in order. The estate was now hers, at any rate, and all she had to do was mind what funds she had newly come to inherit. She would return to school and enroll in an internship. She would request a transfer to Tricell Pharmaceuticals to complete the remainder of her studies.

Sherry felt, in this way, she could be of some assistance to the reparations of Kijuju. Perhaps she could find more information on the African epidemic. Maybe in this way, helping how she could, she would be able to put her mind at rest.

She rose stiffly from her desk and headed for the bathroom.

* * *

_Schumann - Opus 15 "Kinderszenen"._


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER:** Resident Evil © Capcom

**PLOT:** Post Resident Evil 5 - The world works to eradicate bio-terrorism. Not everything ended in Africa. Concerning Sherry Birkin, the girl who disappeared.

**A/N:** "Empty" will be my re-occurring theme in this chapter.

* * *

Before Sherry had left the estate, before she had her belongings re-packed and her flight ticket secured, before she locked the mansion and left it again in its hollow silence, she went into his room.

It was further down than her own and much larger. She hadn't even been sure she wanted to look inside. It was ridiculous, but a part of her contemplated just leaving it undisturbed. After a brief hesitation, she pushed open the door.

Inside was just the same as her own. Everything was the way she had remembered last she saw it.

She browsed past his sparse living quarters, musing anew at how empty it had always appeared. The gray coating of dust hardly helped the appeal. She brushed her fingers over his desk as she approached, and paused when she noticed the pair of glasses. She took them. She turned them this way that way and blew the gray coating off of them.

***

"_What are you doing?"_

"_I can't sleep," she admitted, "nightmares."_

"_What are you doing in -here-?"_

_She wrung her small hands. "Can I sleep here?"_

_He regarded her from his desk. Lenses as devoid as his reply."Absolutely not."_

***

She had caught herself gazing into the reflective black and she replaced them quickly on the desk. Deciding it was better she pack her belongings, she crept out of the room and sealed the door closed. She left the room to its eternal silence.

A week after she had left her university, Sherry was back. Back with a transfer application and Tricell Pharmaceutical listed as her only requested destination to complete her last year of studies. Maybe it was this singular interest that landed her the position as one of a four student group approved to intern at the pharmaceutical company. Maybe it was her persistence with her professors and administrations department. Regardless, a month later all four were starting their internship studies amongst the staff of Tricell's biology laboratories.

Her first night had been oddly detached. Detached in a manner she had since become after her first day back at the old estate. She couldn't place it or explain it, and as such she simply dismissed it. The first night spent in their student quarters, she had found herself sitting at the cramped, little desk, staring blankly at the glowing face of her computer. Her email stared empty back.

***

"_Can I email you when I get there?"_

_His dark glasses turned to regard her directly. "I believe I made it clear that I will not be responding."_

"_I know," she frowned, "but you can read them at least, can't you?"_

_They stared at her, devoid of emotion._

_She twisted her hands together. "I'm a little nervous."_

"_There's no reason for that."_

"_I'm going to be alone again."_

"_You've always been alone," he was so empty, "Sherry."_

_Her eyes flew to his face, searching for the fine print only she had become familiar with._

"_What about you?"_

_He watched her calmly. He was so absent._

"_If I've mislead you, I apologize, but there's nothing here for you, dear."_

***

She stared at the empty letter before her.

Her face was awash in the screen's hollow glow.

The void stared back.

***

_She was off on her own. She was old enough to start looking after herself. She was nervous, shy. He had told her she was different, but she wanted nothing more than to be like everyone else._

_'This is my first night over. I'm so nervous. We talk about home. I'm trying to get used to being Shelly. The teachers seem nice. The beds smell nice. I hope you're okay, wherever you are. _

_-ps. I said I have an uncle. Is that okay? I bet you're far off in Peru.'_

_She had found she wasn't exactly like everyone else. She had a taint about her. Something from her past she could never fully escape. However, she wasn't as different as she had feared. She melded into her new life, and the longer she remained away, the more she forgot about the past._

_'Sorry I haven't sent you a message in so long. I've been really busy over here! Finals keep my hands tied._

_-ps. Possibly China.'_

_Life was stable and predictable. There was a future and she could plan out the possibilities. Sometimes, she wondered if her dreams weren't just that – dreams. _

_'Are you still alive?_

_-ps. Indonesia'_

***

Sherry blinked suddenly, staring at the words on her screen. Her eyes burned and she blinked again. The weary fire lessened. She hadn't remembered typing anything. Her letter stared back at her from amidst the glow.

_'I went home and you're dead._

_-Africa.'_

She stared at the words she hadn't remembered typing.

"Shelly?"

Sherry jumped. Turning, she found Greg peering at her from his bunk.

"Everything okay?"

She nodded dumbly. "Yes."

"It's late." he pointed out.

"I'm coming to bed."

She turned back to her letter, regarding it with detached curiosity. She debated, considered for a moment, hit "send" as she shut the computer with a soft click. She crawled up to her bunk.

She lay there for another hour, staring up at the blank ceiling. She stared up at all the little imperfections, all the little grooves, and tried to recall his face. There was nothing but a vague memory. She tried to remember the mass murderer, the one who had brought her home, as she grew up alone and forgotten. Almost forgotten. She watched the ceiling above and realized she had sent the very last of her email letters.

It was perplexing and she didn't know how to feel about it. Letters to an empty place.

***

"_Can I sleep here?"_

_He regarded her from his desk. Lenses as devoid as his reply."Absolutely not."_

_She fought back the urge to cry at her helplessness. At her situation in life. It wasn't fair. She hadn't done anything to deserve any of this._

"_Please," she begged, heard her voice crack, "I won't bother you."_

_He only sat there, face so irritably blank._

"_Y-you don't even use your bed!" _

_She felt the burning in her eyes. He was just sitting there, watching her. She was going to start crying..._

"_If you disturb my work," he warned, "I'm going to throw you out."_

***

Through hazy eyes, she stared at the ceiling and tried to remember the man with hands stained with blood. An empty comfort that had been so familiar while it had lasted. Her empty comfort. Was there emptiness because of her loss, or the realization she was just as alone now as she had been with him?

Her eyes grew heavy, her mind drifted further, and she slipped into dreams of far away places. Of vast, dry lands, flat and forever, with dry empty skies reaching far above.

* * *

_Schumann - Opus 15 "Kinderszenen"._


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER:** Resident Evil © Capcom

**PLOT:** Post Resident Evil 5 - The world works to eradicate bio-terrorism. Not everything ended in Africa. Concerning Sherry Birkin, the girl who disappeared.

**A/N:** Annon, I took great pleasure in reading your review. If this helps clarify at all : Albert Wesker, as canon as can be maintained from the RE series, is a cold, calculating, and selfish man. He turns on his associates without a second thought, and is as far from warm, friendly, and paternal as can be imagined. The very fact that I've depicted him as caring after Sherry sans any further research to be gained from her is as "paternal" as I can believe him. If I pass Wesker off as cold and purposefully mean, then it's only half right. But you must consider Wesker has little time for a child, or childish weaknesses. So if he comes off as mean, it's only his method of making her more self-dependent and aware of her circumstances - to accept them and move on. Not to be needlessly cruel.

This chapter highlights on lighter memories, so I hope they'll be more pleasant for you. Also, this is only Part 1 of what I plan to be a 2 part story arc. There's more to be developed. I hope you'll come along with me for the ride. :]

* * *

Sherry was falling into ice. She must have fallen into the frozen lake. She was sinking further into the icy waters, sinking further into the frozen black. Everything passed by, her vision was void, the sounds were falling away from her, and below her the darkness was approaching, reaching up, taking her by the hand and leading her down into its emptiness. She knew nothing after that.

***

She was working that morning. She had slept poorly, dreams plagued by far off lands, vast and haunting. Greg was helpful, and kept her focused, on track. She worked alongside him, under the direction of a Tricell botanic scientist. They had taken an early break, heading to the staff lounge for coffee, something to stimulate her. They were standing by the counter, sipping at steaming cups.

At one of the tables, two staff employees were sharing their irritability over TerraSave's interference with the company's work. Sherry and Greg only half listened, half whispered privately.

"We'll call it quits early today. You can get some sleep tonight."

Sherry nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

"You sure came back fast, sure you didn't need more personal time?"

She shrugged, turning to glance out a window. "I'm alright."

The lounge doors slid open and the employees hushed as new voices came into the room. Greg chuckled lowly.

"Those must be the ones from TerraSave."

Sherry half-glanced towards the group walking in and froze. She froze over.

The small party walking in had reached the tables, were fanning out, but the woman with the bright red hair had stalled, captured half-way to snagging a chair.

She was staring in wide-eyed shock across the room.

Sherry was staring like a shocked animal back across. Her cup dropped to the floor.

Greg was shaking her elbow, he was saying something to her, trying to call her attention, but she couldn't hear anything, could hardly feel anything. She was twelve-years-old again, alone and afraid and waiting for blue eyes and red hair to come save her.

She was falling. Sherry was falling into ice. She must have been thrown into a frozen lake. Everything passed by, her vision was void, the sounds were falling away from her, and below her the darkness was reaching up. She turned to its empty comfort and knew nothing more.

***

_She was laughing. He offered a sideways smile at her discolored face._

"_I do believe you're not quite ready for chemistry just yet."_

_...  
_

_She was parading around when she let herself in to the labs._

"_I am collecting data in the name of science."_

_He turned from his computer to regard her rather monotone play at him. His face turned to complete exasperation. She had assembled her wardrobe to an all black wear, purple framed sunglasses staring expectantly back at him._

"_You're supposed to be studying." was all he could say._

"_I'm gonna need hair gel." she replied._

_...  
_

_They were arguing in the kitchen._

"_But I'm bored of it!"_

"_Don't be insufferable."_

"_I'm not. I just can't stand to eat anymore of this boring food."_

_He regarded her as he collected his patience. "What do you propose, then?"_

"_I stole a phonebook from a booth in town." She couldn't mask her pride in it. "We can order anything we want."_

_His lips turned up at the corners. "We're getting rather clever, aren't we?"_

_She smiled wide and bright at him._

_...  
_

_She was frowning at the book below her. He was sitting next to her._

"_You should spend less time wandering the grounds and more time studying your math."_

"_It gets confusing." _

"_Since when have you been afraid to tackle a problem?"_

"_Okay," she admitted, "I get bored sometimes."_

"_You'll never do well in science if you don't understand your math."_

_She looked up at him, hesitant. "What if I don't want to do science?"_

_His glasses were looking out the window. She saw something move in his jaw._

"_Just kidding!" she blurted, quickly._

_...  
_

_They were both seated at the table. She watched him add a small portion of the green-stuff to the roll and pop it into his mouth._

"_Just like that."_

_Her eyes grew wide. "You ate uncooked fish!"_

"_You ordered it." he pointed out flatly._

"_Well, I've never had it before, how was I supposed to know?"_

_He gave her an unimpressed look beyond the glasses. "You're keeping me from my work."_

"_Okay, okay!" she yielded. "So I just add some of that green-stuff?"_

"_If you prefer it that way."_

"_Does it taste good?"_

"_Try it."_

_She dipped a finger into the mass and stuck it in her mouth. Instantly her eyes squinted shut, her nose wrinkled up, and her tongue popped back out._

"_Gross!"_

_He laughed._

_...  
_

_They were seated together on the bench. She watched his hands move over the keys and tried to follow along with the notes on the paper. He finished it off and turned to regard her, black lenses staring down at her expectant face._

"_Moonlight Sonata."_

_She turned to the papers and fished around for her own._

"_I've started to learn one." She pulled it out. "I like Scenes from Childhood."_

_She played as far as she could on the sheet. She played it rather well. He nodded approvingly. _

"_I like to see that you're learning -something-, at least."_

_She huffed, then turned to regard him with curious eyes. "Did you learn the piano when you were young?"_

_His lips quirked slightly. "My life has always been a much different thing than could be imagined."_

_She had wanted to ask him more, but knew he wouldn't tell her._

...

_Just a few handfuls of small instances throughout the long years, but she knew they were there nonetheless._

***

Her eyes opened and she blinked back at the light from the window above her head.

"Sherry."

She sat up, staring straight ahead to her lone visitor.

"Hi, Claire." she whispered, "It's Shelly, now. Shelly Williams."

She saw understanding register on the woman's face. She looked down at the bed she was lying in.

"You fainted." Claire provided weakly, "They brought you in here to recover."

"Okay." It was a stupid reply.

She was older, more mature, but she was still the beautiful face, bright eyes, of her childhood memories. The one she had always been waiting on.

"Sher-Shelly," Claire whispered, raw and open, "I can't believe – I thought you were dead. My God, all these years..."

Sherry felt something rising up into her throat.

"Did you find your brother?"

Tears glossed Claire's eyes in the light of the room.

"Yes. Yes I did – I went looking for you. I went looking, and they said you were gone. Just vanished away."

"Why did you take so long?" Sherry whispered back. "You were gone so long, Claire."

Claire wiped at her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I did go back, but it was too late, and you were gone. Where were you, Sherry? Where_ were you?"_

"I was with Wesker. He came and took me. There wasn't anywhere else to go, no one came but him."

Claire was watching her in silent horror.

"Oh, Sherry..."

Sherry blinked and stared down at her hands, knitted together in her lap.

"Sherry, forgive me."

She was staring at her hands. Sherry took a deep breath. "I forgave you a long time ago, Claire."

Claire crossed the distance and brought them together in a long, desperate embrace.

"God... I finally found you."

"He's dead, I'm sure you know." was Sherry's empty reply into Claire's shoulder. Claire tensed slightly, but said nothing. "He was chasing after something terrible, and he died. They killed him."

She suddenly began to cry. Sherry began to sob. Curled against Claire, arms wrapped tightly around her, she cried. Unrelenting tears soaked into Claire's clothes. Sherry couldn't bring herself to stop. She didn't think she could if she tried. She cried for both of her parents, how she still missed them. She cried for all the people Umbrella had hurt. She cried for the years she couldn't, and she cried most brokenly for a man the rest of the world would shed no tears for.

Claire sat there, soothing her, stroking her hair, and trying not to understand why Sherry cried. She didn't want to understand. She knew better. She simply sat, comforting the aching girl.

"It'll be all right." Claire gently consoled. "We're going to move on. There's life ahead, and we're going to be able to start over. I finally have you, you'll never be alone again. We'll start anew."

They held on tight. They sat together, in that lit room, and all the years meant nothing to a promise fulfilled.

* * *

_Robert Schumman - Kinderszenen_

_"Scenes from Childhood"_

_Opus 15, Part I- Von Fremden Ladern und Menschen.  
_


	6. Author's Notes

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Thank you very much for everybody who's bothered to read. Thank you for those who have given me support in the form of encouraging comments - I graciously appreciate them.

Opus 15 I wrote to stay as canon as I was capable of imagining as a post RE5 story to play out. There is more story I would like to cover, but it would fringe too much from what I feel this first part represents. I will be personally manipulating Part II as I need. If you've enjoyed reading, and you'd like to follow Sherry further, I hope you'll join me in Part II. The next story arc will focus more broadly, encompassing Sherry, Claire, Chris, & Wesker in more detail. It will highlight on their fates, always and forever intertwined. It will be a completely new adventure. Until we meet again! :]


End file.
